The Victory Banquet (Part 5)
"...What was that? Magic?"
A loud noise thundered nearby, coming from the west—right around the entrance. With her acute sensitivity to mana, Renias could clearly feel the ripple of magical turbulence emanating from that direction.
"Come to think of it, Senior Junon told me to meet him by the entrance..."
Surely nothing went wrong?
Gnawed by an inexplicable flutter of unease, Renias stepped off the terrace and followed the garden path toward the main entrance of the banquet hall.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
"What did we even do wrong? At least tell us why you're barring us from entering!"
Two students sprawled across the flagstones outside the banquet hall, having been unceremoniously shoved to the ground after what looked like an arbitrary checkpoint inspection.
The academy uniforms were woven with defensive wards designed to absorb magical damage and disperse it into blunt physical force, ensuring that students wouldn't suffer crippling injuries or fatal wounds during brawls, drills, or duels. Naturally, being ambushed with magic out of nowhere would throw anyone off balance. Yet the bitter reality was that the two hadn't simply failed to parry; they had possessed no means to parry at all. While the gap in raw prowess was an unavoidable fact of life, an incoming spell could still be neutralized if properly deflected. But weapons were strictly forbidden at the banquet.
Stripped of their armaments—the very lifeline of a vanguard—they had no way to deflect the spellcraft, leaving them completely defenseless.
Strangely enough, the guards cross-referencing names and faces against an attendance register at the gate were third-year upperclassmen.
"Noel of Class D, and John, also of Class D. Those are your names, aren't they?"
"How do you know our names...?"
The reason these third-year guards were forcefully turning away second-year juniors was painfully simple.
"You aren't qualified to attend the banquet. We can't just let anyone waltz in, can we?"
Once again, they were being treated like second-class citizens solely because they were vanguards.
Lebrant Academy prided itself on the ideal of equality. The victory banquet was supposed to be a place where the veil of social rank was cast aside, where everyone stood as fellow students to share guidance and celebrate together. Yet the guards stationed at the entrance were choking that very promise off at the threshold.
"If you're so frustrated, stand outside and wait until the VIPs leave. This is a directive straight from the professors, so don't make a fuss."
The two bristled with indignation, but the mention of a faculty order left them with no choice. Clenching their jaws, they were forced to wait near the gates.
"...You heard him. If the professors ordered it, there's nothing we can do."
"I wonder when they'll come out..."
The third-year student turned away two more arrivals. In the span of a mere five minutes, nearly twenty students had gathered outside. Every last one of them belonged to Class D or Class E.
"Just as I thought."
Junon stood perched on high ground, commanding a clear view of everything unfolding at the gates.
"Even without Sylvia, they were always going to find another pawn to take her place."
The victory banquet ran from six in the evening until nine—three hours in total. Yet when the student council president had dropped by the Class D and E rooms to announce the schedule, the students were told the doors opened at seven-thirty, slashing their time in half. Although no official regulation disqualified anyone from attending, the cartel used underhanded tricks like this to weed out undesirables and keep Class D and E students from stepping foot inside. The underlying motive was so blatant it made Junon's stomach turn.
Before long, a tardy Class C student would arrive and walk right in. And how many Class D and E students would bear witness to it? When questioned, the guards would claim it was faculty policy. When pressed for criteria, unable to conjure a believable excuse, they would resort to raw force. Pushed beyond their limits, the Class D and E students would finally let their pent-up sorrow erupt, storming the hall en masse.
That was the true anatomy of the 'Failing Students' Riot.'
Is Renias not here yet...?
In truth, the masterminds orchestrating this affair were an alliance of corrupt nobles and professors. They needed to manufacture a distraction—something to counter the intense political pressure the Grand Duke was applying over a student's suicide by jumping. By the time an imperial chancellor from the Artena Empire arrived to unearth the truth, the milk would have already been spilled. Several Class D and E students would be expelled in the fallout, dragging the academy into an irreparable spiral.
With the current semester winding down and next year fast approaching, the lower-class students were already wound tight with anxiety. Starting in the third year, the roster of vanguard students thinned dramatically. Most surrendered their studies, lost all direction, or in the worst cases, succumbed to suffocating self-loathing and chose to end their own lives. These students gathered here were no different. Unless they managed to claw their way into Class C by the end of their second year, this semester's Class Assignment Exam was practically their final chance.
The noble factions and faculty cabal knew this all too well, making the lower-class students even more desperate. What good would it do if grading standards were rewritten and professor corruption was uncovered down the line? The students would only nurse bitter resentment over why salvation had arrived so late.
Not to mention, the catastrophic shortage of vanguards in the third-year Joint Practical Training will lead to unprecedented casualties.
Looking at the road ahead, the importance of frontline and support roles would only amplify. If this injustice wasn't checked right now, it would snowball into a catastrophe capable of swallowing the entire Principality whole. That was why Renias's eyes on this scene were indispensable. Junon needed her to witness the atrocities the nobles committed in the shadows of the academy and ignite with righteous anger—he needed the pure fury of a girl who stood as absolute good to deliver these struggling students from the brink of destruction.
"Damn it...!"
Down below, the third-year holding the attendance register exchanged a subtle nod with a newly arrived first-year girl. The powder keg was about to blow.
Had Renias not arrived yet? Should he step forward and intervene himself? If he did, how should he handle it?
A tangle of thoughts raced through his mind, but Junon was already bounding down the side of the building. Whatever happened, he had to get down there and take action.
"Name and year?"
"Nila, first year."
Seeing a freshman attending the banquet for the very first time standing at the gate, the crowd naturally assumed she would be reprimanded and turned away just like the rest of them. But reality shattered their expectations.
"Verified. You may enter."
"What...?"
"She passed? How does that make any sense?!"
"Why does she get to go in while we're stuck out here?!"
"I told you," the third-year guard sneered coldly. "You aren't qualified. That's how it's marked on the register."
"What do you mean, 'qualified'?! There's something written in that book, isn't there? Let us see it for ourselves!"
"Oh, give me a break. I already told you this is policy handed down by the professors! How many times do I have to repeat myself? We'll get into trouble if we let you look at this!"
A wave of confusion rippled through the gathered students, their bewilderment quickly curdling into suspicion.
"Then what makes that girl Nila any different from us?!"
And with that, the fuse was lit.
"...Nila is in Class C. I stood right next to her during freshman placement."
"What? Then..."
"Ha... So that's it? We're being kept out just because we're from Class D and E instead of Class C?!"
It had begun—the rebellion of those who had swallowed humiliation for far too long.
"What kind of qualification is that?! You're just looking down on us because we aren't casters, because we're vanguards and supports from lower classes!!"
"You claimed the professors decided it... You're just making up rules as you go, aren't you?!"
"Explain it to us properly! If you don't have a damn good reason, step aside and let us in!!"
"Tch, for fuck's sake. What a pain in the ass."
KWA-ANG!
"Ugh!!"
The defensive enchantment stitched into the academy uniform converted the third-year's magical blast into kinetic concussive force, ringing out with a deafening crack. As the student who had demanded an explanation went flying backward under another blast of fire magic, the eyes of every waiting student converged on the scene.
Some among the crowd were meeting for the first time; others had shared classrooms for months. A few were close friends, while others were mere acquaintances sharing the same academic year. Yet in the face of such raw, suffocating injustice, their hearts beat with a singular pulse.
"What kind of bullshit rule is this?! Cut the crap!!!"
"What... what did we ever do wrong to deserve this?!"
"Why do we have to take this kind of discrimination?!"
"Is this place even a school?! A place that discriminates against frontliners and strips away our basic rights?!!!"
Bound by the shared misery of the lower classes, the students unleashed their fury all at once.
"Ha! Look at these pieces of trash barking back just because we gave them an inch."
"The professors gave strict orders not to admit unqualified trash. You're the ones refusing to listen."
In contrast to the raging crowd, the corners of the third-years' lips twitched with poorly concealed amusement, one of them failing entirely to suppress a smug grin. Goading this exact reaction out of the lower-class students was the very reason they had ushered Nila through the gates right before their eyes.
"Screw this! Let's charge in and turn this whole damn school upside down!!"
A second-year guardian named Noel was the first to lunge forward barehanded. Instantly, a concentrated ball of fire magic locked straight onto him from the entrance—a spell clearly packed with enough volatile mana to unleash a devastating concussive burst.
Tiiing—!
"Wh-what the...?"
PA-ANG!
The raging fireball hurtling toward Noel was obliterated midair, cleanly intercepted and dispersed by a shockwave tearing in from the flank. The violent collision of mana kicked up a dense screen of smoke and a whipping gale, forcing everyone at the entrance to screw their eyes shut.
When they opened them, their gaze was immediately drawn through the thinning haze toward the left garden—where a young girl with luminous silver hair stood radiant against the evening gloom.
"Th-that's..."
"Lady Renias...?"
"I am quite certain that not a single professor has issued such a directive for this banquet. Wouldn't you agree, Senior?"
Having just hit the ground after leaping down from the building, Junon exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and pumped his fist in silent triumph.
Incredible timing, Renias!